


Sweet Infiltration

by jane_x80



Category: NCIS
Genre: Christmas Party, Dessert & Sweets, M/M, Office Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28052292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_x80/pseuds/jane_x80
Summary: After his mother's death, Ducky is not in the mood for the NCIS annual Holiday Party, but he agrees to retrieve Gibbs so they can both leave after Gibbs has made an appearance. But when he gets to the party, Gibbs and several other people are acting quite out of character.ForDay 13 of the 2020 Happy Holidays Challenge on LiveJournal, the theme is Holiday Desserts. Another story in collaboration with Red_Pink_Dots and her fabulous artwork.
Relationships: Anthony DiNozzo/Jethro Gibbs
Comments: 33
Kudos: 110





	Sweet Infiltration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Red_Pink_Dots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Pink_Dots/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Art for Sweet Infiltration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28047756) by [Red_Pink_Dots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Pink_Dots/pseuds/Red_Pink_Dots). 



> This is the fifth of our efforts to collaborate for this year's Happy Holidays Challenge. I cannot thank ma tres chere amie [Red_Pink_Dots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Pink_Dots/pseuds/Red_Pink_Dots) enough for the really fun time I have when we get to collaborate for this challenge, for being my partner in crime, and for allowing me to play with all kinds of crackpot ideas. RPD was also instrumental in the selection of the title of the story.
> 
> RPD's artwork is, as always, gorgeous and perfectly fitting. Thank you, my Elton ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> This story started because RPD sent the picture of Tony, Abby and Gibbs and we went from there.
> 
> The song that I listened to is Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky's [Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jt3oAyK_IG8) performed completely a capella by Pentatonix (a video which won them a Grammy, btw).
> 
> This story takes place the Christmas the year that Ducky's mother died.
> 
> I didn't want to put it in the tags and completely spoil the story, but just in case, there is a trigger warning in the end notes, if you want to check it out before reading the story.

[](https://i.imgur.com/Qkx9eLR.png)

Doctor Donald Mallard, Ducky to his friends, finally meandered up to the main conference room where the annual NCIS Holiday Party was being held. Even though everyone was invited to the annual bash, Ducky hadn’t really been in the mood this year. His mother had passed away earlier in the year and this was his first Christmas without her, so he had not been feeling quite as jolly this season. And even though his mother had been quite old when she passed, and dementia set in such that not only had she had to be moved to a nursing home but she had no recollection of who Ducky, her only son, was.

At the end, Ducky had been nothing more than an annoying stranger to her, and that had somehow hurt more than anything else. After all these years that he had been a dutiful son, had put her needs before his more times than he could count, swallowed down all the hurt that an imperious, unconventional mother had had on his life starting from when he was in short pants, taken all the teasing from his friends and peers at school because of his mother and his abnormal lack of a father, but in the end the fact that he hadn’t even been important enough to stick in her dementia-addled brain, if even a little bit stung more than he had anticipated. As though it had been a final, purposeful slight.

And yes, of course Ducky knew that it was _completely_ illogical for him to feel so hurt by this. He was a medical doctor, for goodness sake. He knew the science behind dementia, perhaps better than even many other doctors, because he had researched it exhaustively for his mother’s sake. But he was also a grieving son, and he had once been a little boy who had clung to the only parent he had left, and there were times when he still felt like that little boy who needed his mother. And she hadn’t been there for him in the end, to help him through the grief of losing her. Which again, was completely illogical, and downright unfair of Ducky. But people were illogical, emotions were illogical, and Ducky knew that he just had to work through these feelings to come through the other side where he could remember the good times with his mother, as well as the bad. He just wasn’t there yet right now.

And all of these people around him who were so determined to enjoy the holidays no matter what, to willfully ignore the troubles that they were going through just because it was Christmas and so they put on their fake good cheer and tried to get Ducky to join them in this ridiculous and pointless quest of pretending that things were fine, they just annoyed the bejesus out of him. He was normally one for keeping a stiff upper lip, chin up and all that, but this year, he was just too sad to even try. He just wished that he would be left alone to work on the poor people who were unlucky enough to end up on his slab. At least, they were silent and left him to his thoughts instead of trying to drag him out and ‘cheer him up’ or whatever. He had never appreciated Jethro as much as he did these past few months because if there was ever anyone who would do their best to do nothing to try to drag Ducky out of the melancholy mood that he had been in for months, it would be Jethro. The man was as dour as ever, and probably enjoyed the company that Ducky’s misery brought him.

Although, that was unfair of Ducky as well. Jethro wasn’t happy that Ducky was miserable. He was just not particularly talented at being the one to buck one’s spirits up. He was usually the one in need of Ducky’s gentle prodding to come out of his shell more.

Jethro was the only reason why Ducky was even going to the NCIS Holiday Party this year. He had promised to come up when he could and be Jethro’s excuse to leave the party early. Or at least earlier than Abigail and the rest of his team would prefer for him to leave. But Jethro had asked him to retrieve him when he could and that way no one would pressure either of them to stay any longer because obviously Ducky would need to leave and not be part of the celebrations, and Jethro could not in all good conscience allow Ducky to be alone for the rest of the evening. It was a win-win situation for both men.

Ducky was surprised, however, when he made it to the conference room to see that Jethro was arm in arm with both Tony and Abigail as they clumsily danced to… dear god, was that an annoying and insipid rendition of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ blaring from the speakers? Why in the heavens was Jethro even dancing? Ducky had never seen Jethro do anything like this. And why in the name of all that was holy were they attempting to dance the cancan to this song?

He saw that Ziva and Timothy were off to the side, giggling at the sight of Jethro, sandwiched between Abigail and Anthony, the three of them with their arms linked together kicking their legs in terrible asynchronous movements. Interestingly enough, it was Anthony whose high leg kicks were the closest to any showgirl’s cancan dance moves. Timothy had his smartphone out and was photographing, or perhaps even filming this atrocity that Ducky was witnessing.

“What in heaven’s name is going on?” Ducky thundered at Ziva and Timothy when he got up to them.

“We do not know, Ducky,” Ziva smiled at him. “But they are so happy!”

“And so… dance-y!” Timothy continued to film the three dancing teammates.

“Jethro,” Ducky tried to get his attention, and Anthony swept him up, linking arms with him and trying to get him to dance with them. “What is going on?” he asked Anthony, trying hard to stand his ground. He was far too old to be doing high leg kicks.

“It’s the best song ever!” Anthony’s smile was wide and his words were slurred. Anthony looked ‘loopy’, and even though they were dancing, Ducky could see how dilated his pupils were. Anthony was impaired. Perhaps all three of them were.

Ducky freed himself from the dancing trio and went back to Ziva and Timothy. “This is not normal,” he snapped at them.

“No, but it is highly amusing,” Ziva giggled.

“It’s pretty funny, Ducky,” Timothy shrugged.

“Look at Anthony’s eyes!” Ducky growled. “Something has impaired the three of them!” Ducky looked around and saw that there were a few others who seemed to be similarly uninhibited. “They are not the only ones! _Look!_ ” He gestured to a couple who seemed to be shoveling food down their gullets and barely even chewing any of it, and another couple who were standing on a table and singing off-key, but they were singing a completely different song than what was playing on the loudspeaker.

“I thought that Director Vance had vetoed alcohol in the punch this year?” Finally, Timothy put his phone away and looked around the room in concern.

“He did,” Ziva agreed.

“I don’t think they are drunk,” Ducky shook his head. “For one thing, it would take a lot of alcohol for Jethro to do that!”

Instead of dancing the cancan, now that the music had changed to the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, Anthony was attempting to spin _en pointe_ while Jethro and Abigail flitted about and applauded Anthony’s efforts enthusiastically.

“Inform Director Vance that someone is currently drugging NCIS,” Ducky told Ziva. “Timothy, speak to everyone who seems impaired and try to get them to calm down. Find out what they ingested so we can isolate whatever it is that might have been contaminated. I will get our three teammates to sit down and try to ask them the questions.”

“On it,” both Ziva and Timothy told him, separating to carry out the tasks that he had assigned to them. Whatever else about Jethro’s team, once they were given an order that they couldn’t disagree with, or from someone who they respected, they would hop to to carry it out. The problem came when the orders were given to them by someone they did not respect in the same way that they respected Jethro. It was why poor Vance had so much trouble with them when Jethro was out of pocket. They simply did not respect the Director, no matter that he far outranked Jethro in the chain of command. They had been trained to obey Jethro Gibbs and very few others were ever afforded this kind of obedience.

Ducky hurried to where Anthony was transitioning from a rather elegant _passé_ to what looked to be an _arabesque_ that was making him wobble – dress shoes were not designed for dancing _en pointe_ – and he took Anthony’s arm and smiled at him and hushed the disappointed complaints coming from Jethro and Abigail, leading the three of them to a table and trying to get them to sit down.

“Anthony, Abigail, Jethro, please tell me what you might have eaten or drunk at the party tonight,” Ducky tried to ask.

“Food!” Abigail exclaimed.

“Yeah! Food!” Anthony agreed.

“I could do with a snack,” Jethro nodded.

“Me too!” Anthony smiled. “I could definitely eat.”

“Listen to me,” Ducky tried to get their attention again. “I think you have been drugged. Anthony! Are you listening?”

“Drugs are really bad for you, Ducky!” Abigail’s speech was also becoming more slurred.

“Just say no!” Anthony chimed in.

“I’mma get some food,” Jethro tried to stand, but Ducky pushed him back down on his chair. On a normal day, there was no way that that move would have been carried out, Jethro was far stronger than Ducky. Not to mention the fact that Jethro would have threatened Ducky for daring to be so rough or commanding with him. But tonight, he just went back to a seated position and looked vaguely annoyed. No, he looked mutinous. He was _pouting_. “I’m hungry,” he whined.

Ducky stared at him in shock. In all the years that he had known Jethro, the man had never once whined at him. He had ranted, yelled, screamed even, grunted, spoken quietly, or even completely ignored what Ducky had to say. But he had never once whined or pouted like a child that had had their ice cream taken away from them.

“Oooooh, maybe I should get us some more of those brownies we had earlier,” Abigail suggested. “That really hit the spot.”

“And made us feel like dancing!” Anthony’s smile was innocent and childlike.

“Brownies?” Ducky asked. “Where were these brownies?”

“At the food table!” Anthony said brightly. “You know? The table… with all the food.”

“The one I was going to go to to get us some more food,” Jethro pouted.

“That’s OK,” Anthony leaned into Jethro and gave him a hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Ducky will get us some brownies and some food, right? Ducky? Quack quack?”

Ducky waited for Jethro to push Anthony away – whatever was the deal with the kiss on the cheek? Jethro would never stand for that. But instead of pushing Anthony off him, Jethro pulled him closer until the younger man was practically sitting in Jethro’s lap.

“Can we get some more brownies and food please, Ducky?” Abigail asked politely, perhaps thinking that asking politely would make a difference.

Ducky sighed, and at that moment, Ziva and Timothy reappeared carrying an almost empty platter of decadent looking brownies.

“Someone brought brownies laced with cannabis to the potluck,” Ziva declared.

“We asked around and turns out one of the MTAC Tech’s wife has cancer and these were her pot brownies, part of the pain management portion of her treatment,” Timothy shrugged. “He accidentally mistook it for the normal brownies that he was bringing to the party. Vance is getting everyone who seems to be impaired corralled.” He took a brownie and slipped it into an evidence bag. “I’m going to see if someone in the lab can run tests on this to make sure it was just pot and nothing else.”

“And we’ll eat the rest of that!” Abigail tried to reach for the brownies.

“No!” Ziva slapped Abigail’s hand sharply, albeit gently. “These are bad for you.”

“But they were so yummy!” Abigail pouted.

“They _were_ good,” Jethro agreed, also pouting.

“No more brownies?” there were tears in Anthony’s eyes.

Ziva and Timothy both looked at Ducky, gaping. This was new territory for all of them. They had never seen Anthony in tears nor Jethro pouting. Luckily, Abigail pouted on a daily basis so that was not quite as jarring to see.

“We have to give this back to the tech to take back to his wife,” Ziva said, sounding apologetic.

“Tell you what,” Ducky sighed. “Why don’t you come down to the lab and let me take some blood so we can run some tests and after that I will take you home with me and we can have as much food as you want.”

“Even brownies?” Anthony asked, eyes wide and hopeful. Ducky had to wonder how anyone must have been able to resist the man when he had been a child, as his wide-eyed begging was absolutely working on Ducky, despite the fact that he was feeling more like the Grinch than Santa this year.

“Yes, Anthony, even brownies,” Ducky had to smile at him.

“I don’t like needles though,” Anthony started to pout again.

“I’ll hold your hand, Tony,” Jethro offered, taking Anthony’s hand. “I’m not afraid of needles. I’ll help you.”

“Me, too!” Abigail took Anthony’s other hand.

“You had better come with me,” Ducky told Ziva and Timothy. “I will need all the help I can get with these three.”

Timothy and Ducky began herding the three members of the MCRT who were high towards the elevator while Ziva went to give the platter of cannabis laced brownies to the Director before she came down to Autopsy. Ziva and Timothy distracted Jethro and Anthony while Ducky took a vial of blood from Abigail. Then it was Jethro’s turn and Ducky focused on getting his blood instead of paying attention to poor Timothy who was trying to stop Anthony from playing with autopsy tools – most of which were sharp and could hurt him.

When he had labeled Jethro’s sample and dropped the syringe into the disposal, they had trouble trying to corral Anthony until Jethro sat down and offered to let him sit on his lap.

“I’ll hold you tight and not let it hurt you, OK?” Jethro told him.

“Promise?” Anthony asked.

“Oh, oh! You guys have to pinky promise!” Abigail insisted.

Jethro raised his pinky and Anthony hooked his little finger on it before settling himself down on Jethro’s lap. This time it was Jethro who kissed Anthony’s cheek, giving him a gentle smile. Abigail held Anthony’s hand and Ducky went ahead and quickly extract the sample he needed from Anthony.

“Good boy,” Jethro praised his second and this time they kissed on the lips.

Ducky almost dropped the vial, and he turned to see both Ziva and Timothy gaping at what they had also seen. At least it wasn’t just in Ducky’s mind, or he would have thought that perhaps he, too, had ingested some of the brownies unbeknownst to himself.

“D’aaaaawwwww,” Abigail cooed. “You are so cute together.”

“It’s only ‘cause Tony’s so cute,” Jethro declared staunchly.

“I’m not _cute!_ ” Anthony objected. “I’m _handsome_.”

“Of _course_ you are, Tony,” Abigail assured him. “ _Very_ handsome.”

“Right?” Tony nodded his head vehemently, almost overbalancing right out of Jethro’s lap, but luckily the Marine caught him and settled him back on his lap more comfortably.

“Very handsome,” Jethro said, his voice husky, and again Ducky exchanged a look with Ziva and Timothy. What in heaven’s name was going on?

“Shhhh!” Anthony put his finger on Jethro’s lips, his movement awkward and clumsy. “We can’t tell anyone! No one can know.”

“Right,” Jethro nodded.

“If people knew, evil things can happen!” Anthony continued. “We know some evil people and evil people do evil things…”

“We don’t want that. No evil,” Jethro agreed, even though he sucked Anthony’s finger into his mouth and began sucking on it. The sound Anthony made at that was downright obscene.

“Alright then!” Ducky interrupted whatever it was that he was hoping was not happening in Autopsy right in front of his eyes.

Anthony pulled his finger out of Jethro’s mouth and all three of them turned to Ducky. “Are we done yet?”

“Yes. We are quite done,” Ducky gave the samples to Mr Palmer who had come down from the party and who was luckily not impaired. He was a diabetic and had not gone near the desserts table.

“See! No evil happened!” Abigail clapped her hand. “We’re saved! See no evil!”

“Speak no evil!” Anthony yelled.

And then, Ducky didn’t quiet know how it happened but Jethro was crouching behind one of the tables, his fingers plugging his ears so he could hear no evil, Anthony standing over him covering his mouth with both his hands so he could speak no evil, and Abigail tiptoeing over them smiling and laughing.

“I should be covering my eyes so I can see no evil!” she shrieked. “But the world is spinning and if I do, I think I’m going to fall over!”

Ducky couldn’t have stopped Ziva and Timothy from pulling out their smartphones and snapping away at this because it was actually quite adorable. Finally, he managed to get them all organized, put their winter external gear on, and hustled them into the back seat of the Morgan Roadster. Anthony was practically in Jethro’s lap and Abigail cuddled up against them. Ducky resolutely kept his eyes on the road and tried not to watch when Anthony and Jethro began kissing – or perhaps the better description would have been ‘tonsil hockey’. They were practically going at it and Abigail seemed to be egging them on. Ducky would have to find a way to bleach his brain to eliminate the wet sounds of lip-locking coming from the back seat, and the soft moans.

They stopped to pick up food from Ducky’s favorite restaurant, before they went back home to Ducky’s big, empty house. He found that despite the fact that his three companions were quite insanely high, the house felt less unbearable with them there with him. He made them eat some food, and they gorged on the non-cannabis laced brownies that he had managed to procure, and then he got them settled into one guest room. He had not been able to separate Anthony and Jethro, as both had insisted on sleeping in the same bed together and he had not wanted them to do anything to each other that they might regret, given their level of impairment. So he appointed Abigail to be their chaperon and last he saw they were all three passed out peacefully on the bed, Anthony and Abigail flanking Jethro, and both of them cuddled into Jethro’s sides, one of his arms around each of them, holding them close as they slept. A disturbingly adorable image, and if Ducky were anyone else, he would have definitely taken a picture of them like that.

Ducky shook his head as he left the room and went to bed. Say what you will but working at NCIS was definitely not what anyone would call boring.

In the morning, Ducky brought a tray of multiple mugs of coffee and biscuits, setting the tray down and pulling aside the drapes, letting the morning sun in and calling out “Good morning!” as loudly and as obnoxiously as he could.

The collective groans of pain that came from the bed only made Ducky smile even wider.

“What the fuck is going on?” Anthony mumbled.

“Get off me,” Jethro pushed the other two off of him.

Abigail was reduced to pathetic sounds of pain.

Taking pity on them, Ducky gave them their mugs of coffee and pulled a chair over to the bed. He got their attentions, noting their bloodshot eyes and pale faces, and explained to them that they had accidentally been drugged by a co-worker. Mr Palmer had called to confirm that it was only cannabis, but a large dose of in each brownie that had caused such strong reactions for those who had consumed the edible. Anthony whined and burrowed back under the covers when Ducky told them that there were probably pictures and videos. The poor man was probably still stoned. He was quite sensitive to drugs and medication of any sort.

“We were dancing the cancan?” Jethro was glaring at Ducky now.

“I was not responsible for your actions, Jethro,” Ducky shook his head. “I was the one who stopped things before it got too far.”

Jethro sighed and nodded. It would be all the apology that Ducky would get from the man given his rule on saying sorry, which was a rule Ducky could certainly live without.

While Abigail was in the shower, Ducky took Jethro aside and asked him if he and Anthony were in any kind of relationship.

“He’s my Senior Field Agent,” Jethro told him curtly.

“And nothing more?”

Jethro gave him a baleful glare and walked away to refill his coffee. Anthony was still in the bed, the slowest to recover. His metabolism was such that he seemed to always have a bad reaction to painkillers of any sort, and cannabis was apparently one of those drugs that made him extra loopy. Ducky was glad that the Director had given all of the staff who had been inadvertently drugged the day off to recover, and Anthony stayed in bed the entire day, mostly dozing until the drugs were completely out of his system.

Interestingly enough, after Ducky called a cab to take Abigail back to the nuns for further care, Jethro opted to stay and ended up getting back in bed in the guest room _with Anthony_ the next night. Jethro had not wanted to leave Anthony when he was feeling so poorly. Ducky decided to say nothing about it, or the fact that he was sure that they had taken a shower together, instead of separately the next morning, as Ducky drove the three of them to work. He knew how to keep a secret. But he was looking forward to seeing what excuse they would be giving to Ziva and Timothy for what they had witnessed – the kissing on the lips and the fact that they had implied that they were in a secret relationship. It was probably a good thing that they had been acting quite outrageously prior to that – dancing the cancan and what have you – so it would not be too difficult to make it seem as if everything had been drug-induced behavior. But Ducky could not wait to hear what Anthony’s excuses would be. The man was a talented liar, and it never failed to amuse Ducky the stories that he could weave, such convincing lies based on a tiny kernel of truth that no one could dispute.

And then, it occurred to Ducky that for the first time in months, his first thought that morning had not been that his mother had died leaving him a sad little orphan, even at the ripe old age that he was. It was refreshing. He had woken up wondering if he would ever get Jethro to admit that he and Anthony were in a relationship, and not the Boss-Senior Field Agent kind of relationship. It was nice to be able to give Jethro a knowing wink before they got out of the car and seeing the man’s face color.

This was going to be a wonderful Christmas after all!

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Someone brings pot brownies to the NCIS holiday party potluck and Tony, Gibbs and Abby, among others, unknowingly eat these and are drugged without their knowledge/consent. Nothing bad happens to them other than this, though, I promise.
> 
> \----
> 
> I hope you liked the story. Go to RPD's [art masterpost](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28047756) and show her your love! ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> I have to say that we had some interesting possibilities when it came to the cute picture that sparked this story! It's really part of the fun of collaborating with RPD, our discussions on what might make a good story LOL.
> 
> Tchaikovsky's [Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jt3oAyK_IG8) performed by Pentatonix was the music I used to write this story. 
> 
> Here's a few more links to other sources for Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy:  
> * [Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy ballet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wz_f9B4pPtg) performed by the Bolshoi Ballet  
> * [Tips on how to dance to this song](https://www.pointemagazine.com/sugar-plum-fairy-tips-2412810998.html?rebelltitem=3#rebelltitem3) and where I got some of the ballet terminology from (I have two left feet and have no clue about dance or ballet)  
> * [An interesting article on the history of the Sugar Plum Fairy](https://www.danceadvantage.net/sugarplum-fairy-exposed/)
> 
> I did watch a community theater performance of The Nutcracker a few years ago, with my kid.
> 
> And yet again, I'm also going to take the time to invite you to sign up for the 2021 NCIS Reverse Bang Challenge! Come and join the fun, if you are writers or artists! Artists can [sign up here](https://ncis-bang.livejournal.com/107865.html), and authors can [sign up here](https://ncis-bang.livejournal.com/108245.html)! 
> 
> Take care and stay safe. ❤️❤️❤️  
> -j  
> xoxo

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for Sweet Infiltration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28047756) by [Red_Pink_Dots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Pink_Dots/pseuds/Red_Pink_Dots)




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